Mickey Mouse
by ParchmentandQuill8
Summary: The origin story of Sara and Leonard's daughter Rory's nickname for Mick. *We'll Get There in No Time part 10*


**I mentioned in an older fic of mine "You're gonna have no future left if you watch all of it happen" that Leonard and Sara's future daughter Rory calls Mick Mickey Mouse. I thought I might write a fic explaining how that came to happen. Enjoy!**

* * *

Mick moved in with Leonard and Sara about four years after Victoria Snart was born. He had, a few months after the initial mission to defeat Vandal Savage had finished, been invited by Rip back onto the Waverider for a new mission to defeat a new villain. Years later, their mission was complete, and Mick returned to the present time. Like Leonard and Sara had felt after the first mission ended, he wasn't entirely sure where to go next. He'd gone to the first place he thought of: his old friends' house. He hadn't seen them in years and missed them more than he would admit.

That same day, he agreed to move in with them.

They had offered him a spare room, but he opted for the basement. Mick generally tried to keep to himself; he didn't want to interrupt the domesticity that was going on upstairs, but one day, some of it trickled down on its own.

Rory Snart was four years old and was, as far as Mick could tell, already a piece of work. It made sense, considering who her parents were. Her blonde hair was already long, and much to the smugness of Sara, she insisted on having her father fix it for her each morning. Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled and her blue eyes twinkled mischievously in a way that was remarkably similar to Sara's.

One day, while Mick was sitting on his couch watching reruns of old crime shows, the door to the basement opened. He could tell without looking that it was Rory, based solely on her slow, decisive steps down the stairs.

"You're not supposed to be down here, kid." he said, not looking away from the TV.

"I don't care." Rory replied. By now, she'd reached the bottom of the stairs and stood by the couch. Mick could see that, judging by the shiny leotard, she'd just gotten back from gymnastics. "Wanna see me do a backbend?"

"What's a backbend?"

Rory proceeded to do the gymnastics trick, standing back up again when she'd finished with a proud smile on her face.

"Good job, kid." Mick said, although he wasn't entirely sure what he'd just seen.

"What are you watching?"

"A show about stealing stuff."

"Daddy said stealing stuff is bad."

"Your dad's a hypocrite."

"A what?"

"Nothing."

Rory climbed up onto the couch and sat cross-legged next to him. She watched the TV screen with furrowed eyebrows for a moment before she turned.

"Who's your favorite princess? I like Mulan because she can fight like Mommy. But I like Elsa too 'cause she's related to Daddy 'cause they both like cold stuff. That mean's _I'm_ related to Elsa too, which mean's I'm a princess."

"What?" Mick asked, having lost track of what Rory was saying long ago.

"Who's your favorite princess?"

"Don't have one."

"You have to have one. Everyone has a favorite everything."

"Fine, are there any princesses that like fire?"

"No, but Merida's hair looks like fire." Rory suggested.

"Then her."

"Cool. What's your favorite animal."

"Dragon." Mick replied.

"Me too, 'cause they breathe fire and they're scary."

Mick grunted his approval. He soon realized that it had suddenly gone very quiet. He looked over at Rory to see her watching him with her big blue eyes.

"Whatcha staring at me for?" he asked.

"Your name's Mick." Rory said. It was not a question, but a statement, as if she felt he needed a reminder.

"Since the last time I checked."

"Like Mickey Mouse."

Mick stiffened, already knowing the direction Rory was headed in.

"I'm gonna call you Mickey Mouse now." Rory said. Before Mick could protest the nickname, Rory had already moved on. "What's your favorite color?"

* * *

Another ten minutes of a barrage of seemingly unimportant questions passed by, with Rory hanging on to every word of Mick's answers, short as they were. Finally, the door to the basement opened and Sara came downstairs.

"Rory, I thought I told you not to come down here." she said.

"Don't worry about it, Blondie." Mick replied. Sara raised her eyebrows.

"I showed him my backbend, Mommy." Rory said from the couch, bouncing up and down on her knees.

"Did you now?"

"Maybe he can come watch me at gymnastics one time."

"Maybe." Sara replied.

Rory turned to Mick expectantly. "Do you wanna come see me do gymnastics, Mickey Mouse?"

Sara froze.

"Rory, what did you call him?"

"Mickey Mouse!" Rory smiled cheekily up at her mother. Sara's mouth slowly spread into a gleeful grin. "'Cause his name's Mick, get it?"

"Oh believe me, I get it." Sara smirked at Mick. "Len is going to love this."


End file.
